


Exit Music

by deareststars



Series: music is the only pleasure we have [3]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Astral Projection, Childhood Sweethearts, Childhood Trauma, Clones, F/M, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, M/M, Other, Pre-Canon, Reader-Insert, Sober Klaus Hargreeves, but don't worry we still love our dysfunctional family, i just realized that this is all incest if you squint, reader and klaus run away, reader has powers again, you can read this as any gender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 01:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18216653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deareststars/pseuds/deareststars
Summary: The others didn't understand. They all thought he was just weak...well, maybe he was just projecting his thoughts onto them, but they never seemed to care. Good ol' Dad, that spawn of Satan, probably made them think it was just training.Just training.-based off of 'exit music (for a film)' by radiohead, specifically the beginning part.





	Exit Music

**Author's Note:**

> here's another one, this time klaus-centric because my poor druggie deserves a lot more than what the series gave him.
> 
> i'm definitely going to focus on each of the characters because they all have a song that focuses on them (for example, "Istanbul" or "Run Boy Run" for five and "Dancing in the Moonlight" for allison)
> 
> yes, i'm even going to do luther, just because i want to give them all equal love, and even though that bitch was an asshole to vanya and klaus in the series, his character is interesting and i want to delve deeper.

It was so, so, so very cold in the mausoleum.

 

That might've been what Klaus hated the most about it. Dear Papa always just threw him in there with his uniform on and locked the doors behind him, so there was nothing in regards to insulation or anything. His blazer was kind of warm, he supposed, but that was only for a quick mission or two. Here, with the ghosts attacking him every minute of every hour, he was oh so very chilled.

 

Well, he supposed the ghosts were part of that problem as well. Only because he'd run out of alcohol and he couldn't seem to find any; maybe Papa had finally caught on and locked away all of his whiskey. Stupid Dad, trying to be responsible and keeping his mentally traumatized son from seeking comfort.

 

They were everywhere. Screaming, taunting, doing everything they could to get their message and desires across. Each had their own set of wounds; the one that took the cake was a virgin priestess, with her neck slit open and burn marks scattered all over her body. Somehow, even in death, she was on fire as well - he'd heard about her death so many times. The repetition took it out of him to care, but he knew what had happened. She'd been 'caught' by a priest of her temple with a boy. In return for her _heinous sin,_ they slit her throat open and burned her alive.

 

The other ghosts were terrifying in their own regards as well. They all echoed his name around the mausoleum, trying to catch his attention and get him to bring them back. But the virgin, she just sat next to him, head cocked and smile taunting. _Why don't you just get rid of us?_ she seemed to ask.  _You have the power, don't you? You can do it at any time._

 

Her smile grew devious and she leaned forward. Klaus shivered and pulled himself into a tighter ball, throat scratched raw from all the screaming he'd done for the past few hours. He could feel the coldness radiating off her body.

 

 _Or are you too_ scared?

 

Of course he was scared. This 'gift' to see the dead, as  _Father_ put it, wasn't that at all. And of course, Klaus pitied himself. He had no one else to do it for him; why him, this poor, fashionable, sensitive boy? Why was he the one cursed with these powers?

 

The others didn't understand. They all thought he was just weak...well, maybe he was just projecting his thoughts onto them, but they never seemed to care, not one bit, about the fact that he was never around until mere minutes before breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Good ol' Dad, that spawn of Satan, probably made them think it was just training.

 

Just training.

 

But then he remembered two very specific people, the ones that did seem to care.

 

First was Ben, or Number Six, "The Horror." Ooh, that nickname gave him  _chills_ , and he wasn't even the one that came up with it. Sweet little Ben, rivaling with Vanya for 'Quietest Family Member,' was one of his only comforts. He knew what Klaus had to go through. The pain of having interdimensional creatures rip their way out of his torso and having to see the light fade from his victims' eyes...Ben had told him all about it, and in exchange, he had a comfort buddy. Someone to rant to; at least, about everything else Dad did. He never told Ben about  _this_ specific torture, maybe because he was a fucking ghost and it might not go over so well.

 

And then...you.

 

The mere thought of your smile made him feel warmer. You were so kind, so caring, so unapologetically you. He wondered if he'd be able to convince you to use your spooky projection powers to keep him company in these dark, dark hours. Or maybe even clone yourself; yeah, that would be fun. He imagined you sitting there, unable to see the ghosts but merely keeping him company, running your fingers across his knuckles and tapping them just like you always did. You were the only one that truly knew what Dad was putting him through.

 

He heard footsteps echoing outside of the mausoleum, and his muscles knotted. "Please," he whimpered, and the footsteps stopped. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt tears build up behind them, a dam just waiting to burst. Even the ghosts seemed to stall, quieting their screams to greet this new visitor. Nine times out of ten it was dear Papa telling him that his fear was a weakness, then sentencing him to another few hours in the mausoleum. That one out of ten chance was always a gift, like a blessing from Father's counterpart, an absolute fucking angel. The gift he had when he could  _finally_ get out.

 

Usually, it was Dad.

 

This time, it was you.

 

He immediately shot upright as the door fully opened and you ran to him, sliding on your knees to bring him into a vicious embrace. Your knees were all scratched up and your uniform was dirty, but you couldn't give a fuck. Klaus was scared and cold, and you've never hated someone as much as you did Dad at that very moment.

 

Vanya had been the one to point out that Klaus hadn't come to dinner. You noticed that Dad didn't come until halfway through the meal, Pogo coming in after him with a grim look on his normally amicable face. Grace was stood off to the side, a gentle smile caressing her face as she filled Vanya's glass with water, but even she seemed concerned about Klaus' whereabouts.

 

"Where's Klaus?" Vanya asked, her voice timid. Just like the rest of you, she was terrified that Dad would reprimand her more than usual if she spoke during mealtime. Herr Carlson spoke in the background, a whisper in the tension that filled the air.

 

"Number Four is training." That was the excuse he always gave. Training, training, training - "I'm pushing this hard because it's just training." "You need to get better, because how will you react when there's a real mission and it isn't training anymore?"

 

But there was something about the set of Pogo's mouth. That was when you realized that they had locked Klaus in the mausoleum again, frail Klaus who was going to snap at any moment and it would be  _their_ fault.

 

You kept yourself calm and finished your meal, then looked over to Dad. "May I be excused to work on my astral projection?" you asked. "I wasn't able to quite get it during our training session this morning."

 

Dad never looked pleased, or happy, or anything except for frustrated and contemptuous. This would be the best you could ever get from Dad: a stiff nod with a slight twinkle in his dead eyes. "Yes, Number Eight, go ahead."

 

You pushed yourself back from the table and vacated the living room. On your way out, you gave Vanya a thin smile that Dad wouldn't be able to see; one that said, "He'll be okay." She relaxed ever so slightly at that, but you figured that this would be the last time any of them would ever have to worry about him.

 

You went up to your room, closed the door behind you, and opened up the bureau up against the wall. Behind the neat row of uniforms and a block of modeling clay you used to work on your cloning, a conspicuous duffel bag was thrown carelessly against the back. However, you hefted it and felt everything inside of it - a first-aid kit, money, extra clothing that wasn't uniform, toiletries - just where it should be.

 

That's what you put on the ground next to you in the mausoleum. Now that your hands were free, you put your hands on Klaus' shoulders, leaned your forehead against his, and closed your eyes. Your hands grew warm on his body and he let out a gasp at the temperature change, then felt something shift in him. His eyes grew wide as something formed behind you, piece by piece, as though you were God and in the middle of building Adam.

 

A fashionably dressed, handsome, and tortured version of Adam - also known as Klaus Hargreeves.

 

You were weak after your little stunt. After all, the most you'd ever tried to clone was a block of clay. However, before Five had vanished, you'd managed to convince him to let you try and clone him, specifically because he was comparable to Klaus in size and he didn't care enough about Dad to tell him what you were doing. Five even agreed with your plan, encouraging you to do it with a glint in his eyes. _Put a dent in that bastard's experiments,_ he had told you.  _Make sure he never finds either of you. That'll hit him the hardest when he finds out two of his prized possessions are on the run._

 

After Five vanished, Vanya and Ben were the only ones that gave two fucks about Klaus. Dad would notice more if Ben vanished than Vanya, though, so you merely informed Ben of your plans and made Vanya your next subject. She was smaller and frailer than Klaus, but you knew that the practice would still be good to have.

 

Despite your fatigue, you managed to smile and stand up, pulling Klaus with you. He stumbled against you, and the two of you would've fallen had Klaus 2.0 not caught you. His expression was permanently fixated in a smirk and he was only capable of repeating one line - "Fuck off, Reginald!" - but as long as Dad didn't speak to him when he pulled him out, the old bastard would never know...at least, not until the both of you were long gone.

 

"What are you doing?" Klaus asked, his voice scratchy and raw and absolutely fucking emotional. His green eyes were tortured and baggy, but they still shined with their typical catlike luminescence. "Why did you clone me? Am I just that good looking?"

 

"You wish, darling," you teased. "We're ditching this madhouse. You and me, we're going to explore. We can go anywhere you want: Los Angeles, New York...the world is our oyster, my friend."

 

His eyes were wide. "You would really risk getting caught for me?" His voice cracked in awe, and the adoration he looked at you with at that moment was incomparable to any of the wonders the world held. You wanted to make sure he was always capable of having that look in his eyes.

 

You caressed his face. "Of course." You winked and put your finger to your lips. "But we're not going to get caught."

 

He nodded eagerly and planted a sloppy kiss against your lips, one that reminded you of a zealous dog greeting his owner the moment they walked through the door. You didn't care; the kiss was so Klaus and you were in love with that boy. "Thank you so fucking much," he whispered. "God, I love you."

 

"I mean, I would hope you love God," you mused. Your smile faded and you grabbed his face in both of your hands, making sure he was looking right at you. "Sweetheart, I'm not going to have any liquor or pills on me, and the cash is for emergencies only. I hope that - "

 

"No, God no," he immediately replied, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. "You're doing this for me. The least I can do is be sober. It's going to be hard, but as long as you're here, that's all that matters."

 

Your grin reflected the moonlight back at him. The ghosts retreated even farther against your mortal radiance. You weren't an angel or goddess to him, someone to put on a pedestal and worship; you were you, and that was what he loved the most about you - why would he change that by making you into something you're not?

 

"Come on, dear Papa is going to be here any minute." You handed the duffel bag to him to free your hands and turned to Klaus. He immediately complied to your wishes and sat where Klaus had just been sitting, back facing the doors and in the fetal position you'd found him in. "Okay, are you ready?"

 

He hefted the duffel bag over his shoulder and linked his fingers into the spaces between yours. "I've never been more ready before in my life," he said with all the sincerity in the world. "I love you so goddamn much."

 

You fixed a kiss to his cheek and pulled him out of the doors. "I love you too, Klaus."

 

_Wake_

  
_From your sleep_

  
_The drying of_

  
_Your tears_

  
_Today_

  
_We escape_

  
_We escape_

**Author's Note:**

> i'm probably going to do vanya next, either with "mad about you" or "i think we're alone now" (the songs that play when vanya slits allison's throat and the family dancing scene respectively)


End file.
